


The Shovel Talk

by lunarella



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, Light Angst, M/M, POV Shiro (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Self-Indulgent, Shovel Talk, Summary is cheesy I know shut up, anyway i'll fix the tags when i'm not half asleep, at least for a good portion, don't ask me how a shovel talk fic can be this long, i would know, i'd sell my siblings for a single potato chip, it swaps in the end, mostly regarding Keith's past, shiro and keith have a super sweet and unrealistic relationship in this, they're in college, very light angst, what's wrong with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 09:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15070130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarella/pseuds/lunarella
Summary: Back in Keith’s earlier years, him getting into fights wasn’t a rare occurrence. Shiro has seen Keith endure bloody noses, split lips, black eyes, sprained ligaments and the occasional broken bone but a broken heart? It would hurt Keith more than any bodily damage he’s ever suffered.It's why Shiro decides he and Lance haven't hung out in a while. He should fix that.---The shovel talk fic absolutely nobody asked for.





	The Shovel Talk

**Author's Note:**

> I was craving broganes but also klance so why not kill two birds with one stone amiright? Also, a shovel talk fic is so perfect for these three, obviously it needed to be written so yw. I've been dying to write this honestly.
> 
> This isn't beta read, but I read over it myself, hopefully it's coherent but if anyone spots any mistakes that are too cringey do let me know and I'll fix them! 
> 
> If you like my writing, my tumblr is [ litaluna (link) ](https://litaluna.tumblr.com)
> 
> Anyway, I'm gonna sleep, I hope y'all like this indulgent trash!!  
> \---
> 
> Update!! Guess who just made a ko-fi!! [ Support me on Ko-fi <3 ](https://ko-fi.com/M4M3FYPJ)

 

It all starts with a series of seemingly ordinary texts. Or, well, as ordinary as texts amongst their regular group of friends could be.

_Mclame: alright, first of all, whoever changed my name to mclame, don’t be fucking rude_

_Mclame: second of all, we’re meeting at Anne’s Friday evening kthnxbye_

_ca$hmoney: wow when did you learn what commas are?_

_koGAYne: culprit found_

_ca$hmoney: I am innocent until proven guilty._

_Mclame: been rehearsing that one for a government scandal haven’t u, pidge_

_ca$hmoney: maybe so_

_hubba hubba: What’s the occasion?_

_hubba hubba: Also does Keith really want to hang out at the place he also works at?_

_koGAYne: Idc I get a discount_

_Mclame: and for ur first question hunk, my dear man, I have something I need to tell u guys and it’s something I want to tell in person bc it’s v important to me_

_Space Daddy: For the record, I do not appreciate my name change, but to clarify_

_Space Daddy: Friday evening, Anne’s Café?_

 

Shiro doesn't think much of it for the rest of the week, other than the occasional curiosity that piques him. Generally, Lance’s idea of newsworthy information is a little different from Shiro’s. Of course, Shiro knows that doesn't make it any less important to Lance, so he’ll go, of course.

However, come Friday, Shiro ends up being marginally late, only by about fifteen minutes. Usually, he’s much more prompt but he accidentally let the date slip his mind until Keith texted him, asking if he was on his way, to which he replied that _yes, of course,_ he was right around the corner, because with how much he was rushing, it wasn’t going to be a lie. He has an image to hold up, being the responsible one and all. He does take a little pride in being the Dad Friend™.

When Shiro does step into the café, the doorbell chiming over his head, the whole gang is already situated at their usual round booth, off to the left corner of the establishment beside a tall row of windows. They hardly notice Shiro’s presence, already engaged in some ridiculous debate that has them poking fun at each other. It’s Pidge who notices Shiro first, waving a hand fervently and calling out his name.

“Shiro! Help me out,” she pleads, shortly pointing an accusatory finger towards Lance, whose face looks… pale all the sudden, which is strange especially since he just recently came back from a vacation in Cuba, which always leaves his skin glowing and sun-kissed. “Lance says that the plot to Star Trek is better than the plot to Star Wars. The table is evenly divided on the topic, and your vote is the tie-breaker,” she pressures. Shiro rolls his eyes, his shoulders slumping in disappointment.

“Alright, I’m not saying this again, but those two series have _nothing_ in common. The only thing they even share is the fact that they have space oriented themes. You’re all wrong for comparing the two,” Shiro chastises. Personally, Shiro is fond of both series and thinks that comparing the two is the equivalent of comparing _The Chronicles of Narnia_ with _Harry Potter_ solely because both contain magical themes.

Pidge slaps her hands on the table, exclaiming to Shiro that he “Only had one job” while half the table cheers. Surprisingly, Lance sits quietly, still looking on edge. Shiro wonders suddenly what he wants to tell everyone, worrying that it may be something bad, even though the casual mood of his texts didn’t imply so.

Warily allowing his eyes to linger on Lance a moment longer, Shiro takes a seat beside Allura, across from Lance, who’s sitting between Keith and Hunk. Allura offers him a smile, nudging his shoulder with her own.

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who showed up late,” she teases in a hushed voice. “Although, I was afraid I’d be the only one. Thank you for making me look good.” She smiles, prompting Shiro to chuckle, an almost invisible blush dusting his cheeks. Keith notices it of course, smirking knowingly at Shiro from behind the cup of tea he’s dawn up to his lips. Shiro returns it with his Disapproving Big Brother Stare™, which only causes Keith's grin grow, though he does look away at least. Shiro doesn’t know when his authoritative looks started having such an insignificant impact on Keith, but he laments it.

“Oh yeah! So, now that everyone is here,” Pidge interrupts the chatter, silence falling over them. “What did you want to tell us, Lance?” She asks, perking forward in Lance’s direction, across the table from her.

Lance, whose eyes have widened significantly, stares stiffly at nothing for a long moment. Now that Shiro is getting a closer look at him, he realizes that Lance doesn’t look _sad_ like he initially worried, but _afraid_.

Shiro has a bad feeling suddenly. As does everyone else, apparently, because Hunk furrows his brows at him and nudges him with an elbow.

“Lance, buddy, you okay?” he calls, all but jerking Lance from his daze to look over at Hunk. “You were all chatty and fine just a few minutes ago,” Hunk observes. Lance’s eyes flick over to Shiro first, before darting away like he’s been caught doing something wrong, which is… odd.

“Uh,” Lance hums intelligently. There’s a moment of intense silence again, everyone eyeing Lance with anticipation and curiosity. He swallows thickly and looks over to Keith beside him, who is looking back, Shiro notices, donning a look that Shiro hasn't _ever_ seen on him before.

_Oh no._

Keith smirks at Lance and huffs a laugh, and suddenly all the stress that had previously stiffened Lance’s frame almost visibly drains from him, his face falling into a dopey smile.

“Uh, what’s happening?” Pidge muses out loud.

Exactly what Shiro is wondering, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as a nagging sensation twists in his gut.

Not seeming to care anymore, now that he’s looking at just Keith and not their surrounding friends, Lance sighs.

“We’re dating.”

Those two words are all it takes for the table to erupt into noise, screeching and gasping and no doubt grabbing the attention of everyone in the cafe. He’s aware of Pidge complaining about how she knew they were pining over each other, but had no idea they’d date this soon. Meanwhile, Hunk is telling her to cough up the cash, saying something about being the ultimate love guru. Allura is reaching out to the two, clasping her hands over Keith’s to say she’s happy for them.

It all happens in a blur, in what feels like seconds, all at once.

Shiro doesn’t say anything though, just stares in the general direction of Keith and Lance until he slowly exhales and sits back, taking in this one simple confession that feels a lot like taking trying to comprehend a fish walking.

He almost doesn't register the hand on his chin, pushing his mouth closed and Shiro turns to see Allura smiling at him, appearing both amused and sympathetic.

“Surely you aren’t too surprised,” she whispers, just loud enough for only Shiro to hear as the rest of the group continues to ask Keith and Lance questions. Keith looks over to him discreetly amongst the chaos, obvious hesitance in his expression even as he offers a sheepish smile.  

Should he not be surprised?

“ _Now_ it makes sense that you looked so nervous when Shiro showed up!” Hunk laughs. Lance’s face drops a fraction, before a nervous smile takes to his lips.

“Ooh, watch out Lance, Shiro is going to hang you by your toes!” Pidge cackles. Lance laughs it off, but Shiro can tell it's forced as his eyes stubbornly avoid Shiro’s direction.

“I'd be terrified for that shovel-talk too, Lance,” Hunk supplies, patting Lance's shoulder firmly, whose body jolts with each impact.

“There's not _going_ to be a shovel talk, guys. I'm twenty-two with a juvenile reputation,” Keith reminds. Shiro wants to disagree with that, but knows it’s kind of true. Keith never got in _real_ trouble with cops or anything like that, but he had a knack for getting into fights, especially in his middle school years.

Although, Shiro can't help but feel like that statement is directed at _him_ , sense Keith very pointedly looks in his direction.

Further into the conversation, it's revealed that their relationship started during summer break, apparently, which means that they've been dating for about a month right under everyone's noses. They were the only ones left in town, as everyone else had been away visiting family and whatnot, including Shiro himself who was off visiting his and Keith’s mother.

So, Keith and Lance were hanging out, just the two of them, since Lance wasn’t going to be out of town for another two weeks, which was when he and his immediate family were going fly out to meet some more family in Cuba, which was around the same time Keith was going to drive up to visit their mom for a bit before he and Shiro drove back together, as Shiro had taken a train so that Keith wouldn't be carless while he was away.

Apparently, those two weeks were enough time for Keith and Lance to build a relationship and Shiro can’t quite wrap his head around it.

“Are you really surprised?” Keith asks later, as they walk back to their apartment together, just after the big reveal at the café. That’s the second time he’s been asked now. He keeps wondering if he’s not supposed to be a little shocked, which is at least a little warranted because it’s _Lance._

“Well, you have told me on multiple occasions that you can’t stand him,” Shiro reminds.

“Well, yeah, but I also complained to you the very first time I met him about how the reason I couldn’t stand him was because I thought he was an asshole, but a fucking _hot_ asshole. It was frustrating. Still is, actually. Hasn’t changed. Except now we’re making out and—”

“Nope. No details needed, stop there. You’re still only nine years old to me, I don’t want to hear it,” Shiro quickly dismisses and has to refrain from drawing his hands up to his ears to block out Keith’s voice. Keith rolls his eyes.

“Well, in any case. I guess I’m just surprised _you’re_ surprised. I mean, everyone seemed to expect it,” Keith says as he strolls beside Shiro. It’s late evening now, and the way the sun is setting is casting a rich orange glow over the buildings and passing cars around them. Shiro looks up at the sky, noticing the moon is absent, and Shiro notes that starting tomorrow a waxing crescent will be in the sky.

The odd thing is, Shiro _has_ known about Keith’s crush on Lance. He _has._ He even figured that Lance had some weird crush on Keith, which he poorly masked under a rivalry because he probably subconsciously thought Keith was out of his league, or just wasn't ready to address those feelings yet (Lance hadn't come out as bisexual until a year later). So why is this so startling to him?

“I don’t exactly make it a point to think in depth about my little brother’s romantic affairs,” Shiro settles with, snarky. Keith snorts.

“Fair enough. I guess it wasn't as obvious as your massive crush on Allura, anyway,” Keith mutters. Before Shiro can spin around to do something like swat at Keith’s head, his drawstring backpack is being yanked roughly from his back and Keith is _bolting_ down the sidewalk. Shiro balks in his wake and it takes him a minute to realize that Keith is running away with his backpack which has his keychain in it which has _his key to their apartment on it and that little asshole is going to lock him out!_

Of course, Keith gets to the apartment before Shiro because the little shit was built slim just to outrun him, he’s certain of it. He’s just a second too late when the door slams closed in his face and is locked before his hand can even hit the doorknob. Keith is laughing breathlessly on the other side as Shiro pounds on the door, demanding Keith unlock the door as he delivers an assortment of creative and empty threats— well _mostly_ empty. Keith doesn’t let him in until he swears not to “pull him into a headlock or something”. Despite agreeing, Shiro does anyway.

#

It's weird to think that Shiro only knew Keith existed eleven years ago, when he was sixteen. Keith was already nine. His mom had gotten a phone call one afternoon informing her that, well, Shiro had a little brother. _Well,_ _half-brother_ , _thanks for that, dad._

Shiro still remembers the dread he felt, not only in the fact that it meant his dad had left him and his mom only to start a family with someone else, but also in imagining another person experiencing the same abandonment he had felt when his dad— _their_ dad left him and his mom.

“What about his mom?” he remembers asking his own mother, but all she had done was shake her head, her face twisted into something full of sorrow. It made his stomach drop. Shiro, at least, still had his mom, who offered as much help and support as a single, working mother could. “Where is he going to go?” he had asked. His mother just shook her head again.

Shiro would find out that the question as to where Keith would be going was the very reason they had received the phone call. Keith _had_ nowhere to go. He had nobody. The only relative they could trace had been Shiro, and they hadn’t even been calling to ask if they would take him in. No, they were just calling to find out if they knew where his father—their father was. Of course, they didn’t, hadn’t for years.

It had been sudden and unanticipated, but his mother had offered to let Keith stay with them for a bit. The original plan was to take him in until they could find another relative for him to stay with. _If_ they did. If not, well, then it was back to foster homes.

He vividly remembers meeting Keith for the first time. He remembers because a nine-year-old shouldn’t look so worn with dark circles shadowing his eyes, shouldn’t walk into a stranger’s house like it’s nothing new; the way he slipped his shoes off by the door like he’d done it a hundred times already, because it wasn’t new to Keith. Walking into a strange place was familiar to him at that point. He’d already been through three different foster homes and one children’s home. It was just another stranger’s house.

He was small for a nine-year-old, and bonier too. But what haunts Shiro still, is how _tired_ he looked. It wasn’t the kind of tired that came from lack of sleep either, though that was undoubtedly a factor. It was the kind of tired that came from living in the houses of four different strangers, in four different homes that were never his. And even though he left every single one of those homes at some point, Shiro imagines that little pieces of his identity and self-worth were torn from him with each departure, like they were nothing more than misplaced clothing articles; a rogue sock or a missing shirt. Each place took a part of him and that small, emotionally drained boy who stood in their doorway was the remnants.

He remembers how it took a week for Keith to so much as utter more than a word to them, how long it took him just to look them in the eyes for more than a brief moment, or do _anything_ that could possibly make their relationship personal because he didn’t want to hurt when they left. He didn’t want to risk growing fond of them. Hell, he hadn’t even unpacked his bag until three weeks in, convinced he’d be leaving any day and henceforth didn't want to settle in and get comfortable only for the ground to shake beneath his feet.

Shiro remembers how the first thing Keith had said to him that was longer than a mere three words, was how he was hard to look at sometimes because he looked just like their dad. Shiro had the same strong build, broad shoulders chiseled jawline, even the same forelock. Shiro saw it too, of course, every single time he looked in the mirror.

He remembers hearing Keith cry in the middle of the night sometimes, no doubt clutching the atrocious looking stuffed hippo his biological mother gave him before she disappeared, two years before his father. One of its beaded eyes had been replaced with a brown, marbled button and stitches lined the butt of it where the seams had begun to give and split. They still have it, but Keith hides it in his closet, now. Shiro doesn’t even think it’s because he’s ashamed to still own the ugly thing, but firmly believes he’s just scared it’ll wear and tear even more if it’s not safe in his closet.

He remembers the first time he got Keith to actually laugh. It took Shiro tripping in the kitchen and spilling a box of Fruit Loops all over himself as he landed with his back to the tile. He stood up to see Keith sitting at the bar of the kitchen looking torn between fear and laughter. _“I finally get something out of you that isn’t a shrug, but it’s the result of me getting hurt.”_ Keith had just snorted and went back to eating his own cereal.

He remembers the very slow process of Keith beginning to open up to him and their mom, every second afraid, cautious and hesitant out of fear that they were going to leave him next, the moment he opened up and let himself be vulnerable.

He remembers how Keith sobbed into his cake on his tenth birthday, when their mom asked if she could adopt him, officially. It meant no more foster homes, no more moving around. It meant that his stay with them was official and no longer temporary placement until they figured out what to do with him. It meant stability. It meant family.

Shiro knows that Keith is an adult, now. He’s not the standoffish, vulnerable thing he remembers from eleven years ago. He’s still emotionally stunted, still definitely has trust issues with anyone who isn’t Shiro or their mom.

He still doesn’t like getting close to people out of fear that they’ll leave like so many people in his life have. So, he keeps a safe space, cuts people off or keeps his distance so they can't have any emotional leverage to hurt him.

Even though he has gotten better, making friends has always been a challenge for him, and the only reason he has a group of friends is because Shiro had forced him to hang out with him and Matt, his best friend, who invited them over for a game night. The game night had consisted of the three of them, Matt’s younger sister and her friends, or Pidge, Hunk, Allura and Lance.

Of course, Keith’s competitive nature came out when Lance insisted on challenging him at every opportunity, which baffled Keith until he figured out that Lance was the guy in one of his classes who was always trying to up him and then it was _on._ It was a loud and rocky start, but it somehow ended in Keith being part of their squad and Shiro was relieved to see Keith inviting more people into his life, even if it meant he had to listen to Keith complain about Lance for the next however long, about how annoying he was, but (and these are the parts he would try to zone out) how _hot_ he was and according to Keith, it wasn’t fair for someone to be so attractive yet so repelling and tragically straight at the same time, or so they had thought at the time.

Although _never_ did it occur to Shiro that Keith and Lance would actually end up dating. He figured it was a temporary crush, or based solely on Lance’s physical attributes.

It wasn’t necessarily the dating aspect that was bothering him. Keith had already been with a few guys, though they never lasted long and Shiro could tell they weren’t serious and he thinks that’s the problem; that up until now, they weren’t serious.

A serious, romantic and intimate relationship, though?

Back in Keith’s earlier years, him getting into fights wasn’t a rare occurrence. Shiro has seen Keith endure bloody noses, split lips, black eyes, sprained ligaments and the occasional broken bone but a broken _heart?_

Sure, he suffered the pain of his both his parents leaving him, but for his heart to break at the hands of a lover? Somebody he willingly invites into his life through choice and not sheer chance, out of trust and adoration? It would hurt Keith more than any bodily damage he’s ever suffered.

So yeah, maybe if this weren’t serious, or just a fling, it wouldn’t be such a concern, but Shiro _knows_ Keith. He knows all of Keith’s mannerisms, can tell when he’s sad, frustrated, confused, happy, _they’re brothers._ So, Shiro can tell that this is not a fling. Not for Keith.

As of late, he’s been seeing something in Keith that he’s never seen before and its unsettling to say the least.

Keith has been spacing out on the regular for the past week, having to be snapped back to reality quite literally with a hand in his face, or the third call of his name. He’s been forgetting to do little things he doesn’t typically forget, like putting the milk away when he’s done with it, or _leaving the car running as Shiro sits in the passenger’s seat bewildered as to how Keith actually just got up and left without turning the car off, first._

_“Keith, are you forgetting something?”_

_“...” A confused stare later. “Oh, my fucking god.”_

Shiro teased him about it for days.

Most uncharacteristically though, he’s been _clumsy_. Keith has never been particularly clumsy, not even as a child. He’s always been good with his hands and quick on his feet, gifted with a natural lithe and agile form.

So, when they’re out grocery shopping and Keith literally _trips on his own feet,_ sending a carton of milk flying from his hands and splattering at the feet of an elderly woman, it’s a shock to both of them. Keith profusely apologizes to the woman, even reverts to the old habit of having a slight bow to his form, he’s so flustered and embarrassed. The woman just waves him off with a smile, reassuring him that it’s perfectly fine as they wave over an employee, to whom Keith also apologizes to before turning to walk awkwardly back to Shiro’s side, shoulders hunched and head ducked as he stares intensely at nothing. His eyes dart over to Shiro, whose trying his best to bite back a smirk. Keith narrows his brows.

“Shut up,” Keith hisses through his teeth, even though Shiro isn’t saying anything, which is what prompts an airy chuckle to escape him. Keith groans before taking off ahead of Shiro so he doesn’t have to stand beside him just to put up with his mockery.

As Shiro walks behind Keith, who’s a good ten feet in front of him now, his amused grin sinks when he realizes he can see it in his step too. They call it walking on air because that’s what it feels like to be really happy. It’s what it feels like to be in love; like all the weight in the world is lifted from your shoulders. Shiro couldn’t ignore the lightness in Keith’s step if he wanted to, the way he strolls altogether like he’s floating, his shoulders down and his head up, eyes unfocused and somewhere far away, and Shiro knows.

_He knows._

It’s why Shiro decides he and Lance haven’t hung out in a while. He should fix that.

 

#

 

“We’re closing!” Lance calls out immediately as Shiro enters the shop, a bell chiming over his head as he pushes open the door. Lance isn’t behind the work counter, instead somewhere off in the hall of back rooms before he emerges around the corner, eyes casted down on the phone in his hand. “Hours tomorrow are from— _holy shit, Shiro!”_ his chipper customer service voice falters into a sheepish and nervous tone as his eyes rise to find Shiro standing on the other side of the counter. He nearly drops his phone and flails to barely catch it.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you guys were closing,” Shiro lies. He knows they're closing. Particularly, he knows that _Lance_ is closing.

“Oh,” Lance says intelligently. “Did you want something?” he asks, brows furrowed as he approaches the counter.

“I was on my way home from the gym, remembered seeing a shirt here that I liked but,” Shiro shrugs with a smile. “Another time.”

Lance nods slowly, expression still apprehensive, but not as much so as before.

“Right, uh, sorry. I mean, if you _really_ want it I can turn everything back on, but it might take a while because I’m pretty sure my grandfather has got this exact computer-”

“It’s fine,” Shiro interrupts with a reassuring smile. “I’ll just get it another time.” He shrugs. Really, he has absolutely no interest in any of the shirts there. They’re not _bad_ per se. The store generally caters to surfers and skaters, so the sporty fashion is honestly right up Shiro’s alley… _but_ he can get better quality at the gym he frequents for a better price. More bang for his buck.

“Right,” Lance says and clears his throat, raising a hand to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “So, I’ll just get back to closing shop,” Lance says as though it’s a question, like Shiro needs to approve of him doing so.

Shiro huffs a laugh. “Sure. I’ll wait for you outside,” Shiro says, stepping away from the counter. Lance nods thoughtlessly, then stiffens as the words seem to catch up to him.

“Wait what?” he croaks, voice cracking.

“Our apartments are in the same direction. Let’s walk together, catch up some. We haven’t had a one-on-one chat in a while.” _Maybe ever._ Lance stares mindlessly at the space beside Shiro’s head, brows drawn together in distress.

“Right! I actually was going to stop by the café on the way back! Keith left some stuff at my place and I was going to give it to him- uh,” Lance clears his throat, seeming to kill the conversation abruptly. He probably thinks it’s a bad topic. Shiro doesn’t blame him. Lance probably knows exactly why Shiro is here. They don’t typically talk alone on their free time and Lance isn’t an idiot, he can connect the dots. He starts dating Keith and suddenly Keith’s older brother wants to walk with him. Alone. And _talk._ Lance knows what’s happening.

“That’s fine, it’s still on the way. I could use a latte anyway,” Shiro insists with what he hopes is a reassuring grin. To be clear, Shiro has no intention of hurting Lance, ever, but he can easily understand why Lance might get that idea. He’s an intimidating guy; he’s built with a sturdy frame, can probably (definitely) bench press Lance himself, was in the military for a short while until the incident that lead to his prosthetic arm, could kick anyone’s ass. But, and he quotes from Keith, he’s “like a gentle giant”. He’d never hurt anyone without warranting, and he isn’t a very violent guy at all in the first place. He has absolutely zero intentions on hurting Lance and he’s kind of upset that Lance’s nervous composure seems to imply otherwise.

“Right,” Lance says and then seems to mumble something, prompting Shiro to raise a brow.

“What was that?” he asks, but Lance stiffens and shakes his head.

“Nothing! I said nothing. Let’s do that. Walking to the café sounds great. I’ll just finish doing… stuff,” Lance trails off, looking anywhere but at Shiro. Shiro nods and steps out, though a nagging sense of guilt continues to irk him.

It's just a talk. If all goes well, it won’t even be noteworthy in future conversations.

Just a talk.

#

Lance is absolutely terrified.

He’s always looked up to Shiro in a sense, and under any other circumstances in the past, Lance would have been thrilled that Shiro wanted to spend time with him. He’s intelligent, kind, responsible, not to mention built like a Greek god. He’s the whole package and easily enviable. Right now, though? Lance finds him more frightening. Because he’s dating his brother. His _younger_ brother with a haunted past and trust issues and fragile, repressed emotions. It is the perfect recipe for a Shovel Talk™. A shovel talk that’s going to last for at least an excruciating forty minutes because Keith’s shift doesn’t start until then.

To be honest, when Lance mentioned that he needed to drop something off to Keith, he futilely hoped that Shiro would decide to re-plan this casual outing, or as Lance would much rather call it, an interrogation. He _does_ need to drop stuff off to Keith though, it isn’t a lie. Keith left his laptop charger at Lance’s along with one of his textbooks the other morning when he’d been rushing to leave Lance’s apartment and it was a story Lance did _not_ want to elaborate on to Shiro. Particularly, he did not want to elaborate on why Keith was there that morning, or why he had to rush to leave in order to make it to work in time. Regardless, Lance _does_ have both items in his drawstring backpack to return them via Keith’s request.

However, Keith does not know he’s here with Shiro. Lance considers for a moment texting Keith his current predicament but knows that Keith would be there in the next ten minutes to assess the issue and rescue Lance from this terrifying situation. But, Shiro would know and then he’d hate Lance forever and ever.

But god damn it, Lance is a man! He can handle this, even if Shiro’s forearm is the size of one of Lance’s thighs.

“You seem tense,” Lance hears suddenly and jerks his head up to look over at Shiro, who is sitting on the opposite side of the booth they’re occupying. He’s smiling in a way that Lance typically thinks is comforting, but right now all he sees is unrelenting passive aggression that probably isn’t actually there.  

“Uh,” is all Lance supplies in response. Shiro stares at him, amused before huffing a laugh.

“Shift that bad?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know exactly why Lance is on edge, but… well, if the conversation is going to start somewhere, it might as well be somewhere Lance feels comfortable.

“You have no idea,” he groans and sinks down in the booth. “I actually had to explain to one costumer why exactly I wasn’t allowed to let them a coupon that’s been expired for three years. _Three years,"_  he complains.

“No kidding,” Shiro snorts with a grin. Lance rolls his eyes.

“I wish. Afternoon shifts are the worst. Plus, it doesn’t help that one of my coworkers has been relentlessly trying to flirt with me ever since he found out I’m bi,” Lance mutters. Shiro hums in response, the comment reminding him of his objective here.

“How’s that going?” Shiro asks, not meaning for his tone to sound as snarky and implicit as it did, but Lance’s brows are already drawing together in hurt and it’s too late to take it back.

“It’s not _going_ anywhere. I’m dating Keith,” Lance reminds, accusatory. Shiro opens his mouth only for nothing to come out before his face twists into a guilty grimace and he sighs.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” Shiro admits, shamefully.

“Yeah, well, it at least verifies my suspicions about why we’re even hanging out right now,” Lance grumbles, resting his chin in his hand forlornly. Shiro frowns.

“Listen, Lance,” Shiro begins, voice soft. Lance looks over to him with raised, imploring, brows. “I really didn’t suggest this impromptu hang-out to upset you, or anything. I’m sorry that it’s coming off that way,” he apologizes, ever the responsible, accountable friend he is. It’s true. He isn’t there to _hurt_ Lance, emotionally or ego-wise. He just wants to shake him up a little. Yeah, he knows the line of morality between those two things is thin, but there’s a difference between frightening Lance a little and actually making him feel bad.

“I mean, I get it,” Lance says curtly, running a hand over his forehead and through his brown hair in a sudden, rare display of agitation. Shiro wonders what for, but he doesn’t have to wonder long before Lance is explaining. “I haven’t exactly proved myself capable of handling serious relationships in the past. I probably just seem like a big player to everyone because I go through hook-ups and relationships like most people do laundry. I get it,” Lance spews fervently, eyes settled on the table, his form slumped and depressed as he scowls down at the table.

Shiro doesn’t know yet, the kind of reaction he's expecting to get out of Lance. All he knows if that _that_ was not it.

If Shiro is good at anything, it’s acknowledging when he makes mistakes, and he’s made a mistake if the miserable look on Lance’s face says anything.

“I’m not here to judge your lifestyle Lance. That’s not my business or anyone else’s. I’m sorry if I made you feel differently,” Shiro sincerely apologizes, and notices he has Lance’s full attention, now. “I’m just worried, Lance,” Shiro admits and exhales.

“Worried about what?” he asks, seeming less down than before, but ultimately still on the offensive.

“Keith doesn’t know what he’s doing, Lance,” Shiro admits, running a hand through his hair in contemplation. “He didn’t exactly have many examples of healthy, loving relationships growing up. His mom left him, followed by his dad a couple years later. One after the other, and Keith never knew why, or where to. He was a kid, you know. He had no one and nothing to blame so he blamed himself. He convinced himself that it was because he was unlovable and broken and that he had to push everyone away before they could leave him.”

“Why are you saying all this?” Lance asks with furrowed brows. “I already know he was orphaned until your family took him in. We all do,” Lance says, looking off to the side in recollection.

“It’s important,” Shiro answers, decidedly. Lance flicks his eyes back over to Shiro, once again offering the other man his full attention. Upon realizing this, Shiro continues. “You can’t just walk away from something like that mentally and emotionally unscathed, Lance. It’s because of all those events from his childhood that he isn’t good at this kind of stuff. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into.” Shiro doesn’t look over at Lance as he explains, doesn’t think to, too caught up in trying to organize and deliver his own thoughts. He doesn’t catch the way Lance’s face changes. “He’s never had any _real_ experience with romantic love,” Shiro begins to list, “He has abandonment issues, trust issues, and any issue you can think of that can come from domestic error,” he continues, “He isn’t good at opening up to people and would much sooner hide his feelings to the point of having a mental breakdown before he seeks help,” Shiro adds, not realizing how Lance has begun to clench his fists where they rest on the table, and before Shiro can go on, he’s interrupted.

“How can you say any of that?” Lance demands suddenly, cutting Shiro off, who looks up, stunned at the sudden outburst. If he weren’t so indifferent to their surroundings, he might be worried about drawing unwanted attention, but all he can focus on is the appalled and _angry_ look in Lance’s eyes.

Shiro has seen Lance’s face twist into an assortment of emotions; happiness, sadness, frustration, but anger? Anger is a new one, never mind for it to be directed at _Shiro._

“So, his past has made him a little emotionally constipated. He knows that more than anyone else and he’s actually pretty insecure about it, but he’s working on it!” Lance defends. His eyes aren’t even focused on Shiro, instead darting around the room as rapidly as his words. “And yeah, you’re right, he’s got trust issues and all that junk, and sure, yeah, he’s romantically inept, but you know what?” Lance asks, turning back to Shiro sternly. “I’m _glad_ I get to be the one who walks beside him as he figures it all out,” he proclaims. “Because it’s worth it. To watch all his walls come down, no matter how slow, is worth it to find whatever is inside,” Lance affirms before his scowl lifts from anger, dissipating into what Shiro can only identify as disappointment. “You of all people should know that,” Lance says accusingly, his voice soft.

Shiro’s eyes are wide in bewilderment, realizing too late that his wording came off as him speaking badly of Keith. But… well, this works, even if it makes Shiro look like an awful person. Hearing Lance snap like that to defend Keith, even if it was the result of misunderstanding, has strangely quelled Shiro’s concerns regarding Lance’s commitment to his and Keith’s relationship.

At a loss for words, Shiro bursts out laughing, slouching forward to bow his head between his arms where they rest on the table. He can’t really help it. He came here with intentions to talk to Lance and confer his devotion to a relationship with Keith, but instead, Lance on the other side of the table telling _him_ about how valuable Keith’s time is. He’s sure people are looking over with confused and probably concerned expressions, but he can’t be bothered to care.

Eventually, he straightens himself out and sighs, pushing his hair out of his face to finally look over at Lance whose brave face has dispelled to confusion crossed with might be terror.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Shiro says, a wide grin on his lips. The confusion on Lance’s face lifts for a brief moment before deepening.

“I— _What?_ ” Lance asks, bewildered. His brows look so knotted, it’s almost enough to give Shiro a headache, thinking about how tense the muscles there must be.

“I was getting there,” Shiro explains with a shrug, rubbing the back of his neck in mild embarrassment. “That whole thing wasn’t meant to be me slandering Keith. I just— wow after all that I can finally cut it short— I just needed to know that you were serious about this. That you weren’t going to be another negative statistic in his life,” Shiro explains, looking down at his hands against the flattop table. “Don’t get me wrong, Keith’s been with other guys before. None of which lasted more than a couple weeks. But I always knew they weren’t serious, I could just tell,” he admits, thinking back to Keith’s lack of romantic interest in the past. “But, with you,” Shiro lets out an airy laugh and sits back in his booth, flicking his eyes between Lance’s wide, blue ones. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”

Lance is blushing now, his eyes wide and his lips drawn into a thin line.

“Oh,” he says intelligently, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his head. “Like, how?” Lance implores after a moment’s hesitance with self-indulgent curiosity. Shiro smirks. Well, it’s not like Keith’s going to tell his boyfriend all about how stupid he has him.

“I watched him walk straight into the closed elevator doors of our apartment complex because he was so caught up in texting you, Lance.” Shiro humors him, though he probably shouldn’t. Keith will not be happy if he finds out that Shiro decided to spew adorable and hilarious Keith Moments to his boyfriend… but well, Keith _will_ want them to get along, and what better way to bond than over the subject at hand.

Lance lets out a snort in response, his blush intensifying, only this time with a wide smile gracing his lips and Shiro can see it in Lance now, too. That _Look._ The same look Keith’s been wearing and Shiro wonders if Hunk and Pidge have been dealing with Lance the same way he’s been dealing with Keith. Lance’s dopey smile says so.

“Sorry for the, uh, outburst. I should have waited for you to finish talking,” Lance apologizes, tilting his head down toward the table in shame. Shiro shakes his head.

“No, I could have opened that can of worms up with more tact,” Shiro admits. Truthfully, he didn’t mean to go in like that. He meant to approach it in more of a ‘Keith is a great person, he’s just got some problems he’s trying to work out, and if Lance in any way shape or form ends up hurting Keith there will be dire consequences’. Instead it came out more like ‘Keith’s got problems for days’ and then didn’t get to those last two parts for obvious reasons. Which reminds him.

“Keith is hard to get close to. I know firsthand,” Shiro says with a solemnly fond look. “He’s afraid of letting himself be vulnerable around other people. He hides a lot of himself from others, but he’s gotten better,” Shiro concedes. “Being friends with you all has helped,” he says, sharing a grateful look with Lance, who smiles blushingly. “But, he still holds back a lot of himself,” he adds, folding his arms over each other above the table. He pauses before he raises his eyes to look intensely at Lance, who returns the gaze with less fear now, and more anticipation. “He’s trusts you with those parts of him,” Shiro finishes. Lance blinks, eyes scanning over to look out the window to their side.

“I know I haven’t exactly proved myself capable of having a relationship longer than a month, but I like Keith. A lot. I know that I’ve said that about quite a few people, but this time it’s different. It _feels_ different. Like, before it was like, I definitely enjoyed their company and I wanted to be with them, but it was like I was more concerned with making it happen than being with the person and that’s why it never worked out, but with Keith,” Lance sighs and leans back in his side of the booth, looking up at the ceiling of the cafe. “Everything is just _happening_ with Keith and that’s why it snuck up on me, too, you know? I never considered it before that break you were all away, not like this. Honestly, it makes me think I’ve liked him for a while, now and I just never realized because it never occurred to me to consider him like that,” Lance admits rather articulately, a blush settling high on his cheeks. Shiro listens intently, fondly even. “It’s like, totally fucking exhausting, Shiro. Why the hell is he so likable and why did I not notice it forever ago? He’s awesome and talented and plus, he’s _ridiculously_ attractive.” And, that’s _less_ fond. “I just want to grab his stupid, gorgeous face and—”

 _“Okay,_ don’t need to finish that sentence,” Shiro interrupts sharply. Startled from his hand gestures, Lance looks over to Shiro and straightens himself back up, clearing his throat nervously.

“Right, sorry,” Lance apologizes, face reddening by the second. Shiro smiles.

“Me too. I’m sorry. More so, if anything, for dragging you out here Lance,” Shiro suddenly apologizes. Lance’s eyes snap up to him, wide and confused.

“What for? You’re just looking out for your brother,” he points out with furrowed brows. Shiro shrugs.

“I’m just realizing now how unnecessary it was,” Shiro smiles.

“Oh,” Lance says again, ever with a way for words. “So, you’re not going to threaten me or anything?” Lance asks with such genuine surprise and relief that has Shiro feeling a little offended.

“I hardly need to. You’re dating _Keith_ ,” Shiro reminds with a shrug. Keith is as capable as anyone of defending himself. Shiro would know, they used to play fight a lot as kids, even still do it occasionally as adults. He used to teach Keith everything he learned from his karate lessons, back when they could actually afford them and even taught him what he’d learned in the army between visits.

“You’ve got a point,” Lance says, morbidly.

 _“But_ ,” Shiro adds, darkly, brows narrowed and head tilted downward at an intimidating angle towards the other man. Lance’s face pales, eyes widening and shoulders tensing as his lips settle into a grim, thin line. Shiro lets the silence draw out for dramatic effect before he lets out a small chuckle and smiles. “Relax, Lance, I’m joking,” he teases. He was never one for direct threats, anyway. The very reminder that Shiro exists as a _potential_ threat seems to shake him up plenty.

“Do I actually scare you that much?” Shiro asks, curious and only the slightest bit offended. Lance scoffs at him.

“I mean, not typically, but since I started dating your brother? _Yeah, a lot._ Have you seen yourself? You have muscles in places I didn’t even know there could be muscles! Also, do you remember that time you were helping us move Hunk into his apartment? You lifted Hunk’s bureau _alone_ and two of the buttons on your shirt _actually_ _popped_ when you flexed, you’re like a giant, Japanese terminator, of course I don’t want to be anywhere on your bad list!” Lance exclaims. Shiro laughs heartily, blushing lightly.

“That sure did happen, huh?” he says in recollection of the event, bashful. Listen, Shiro works hard for his body, it’s nice to get appreciation now and then.

“What are you guys doing?” a new voice calls from beside them. Shiro is lost for words when he finds Keith suddenly standing beside their booth, looking between Lance and Shiro suspiciously. He’s in his work uniform, which is nothing more than a white button-up and black skinny jeans, as his job supplies them with the apron and complimentary hat.

“Uh,” Shiro says, eloquently. My, how the tables have turned. Keith quirks a brow expectantly at Shiro, and Shiro supposes he spends a second too long staring, mouth opening and closing like a fish because Keith looks away to focus on Lance instead. Thankfully, Lance just shrugs and offers Keith a sheepish smile.

“We bumped into each other while I was leaving work,” is his simple explanation. It’s not exactly a lie, but it’s not the entire truth either.

Keith, not seeming to be quelled by this, crosses his arms over his chest in his usual display of discomfort, or more specifically the stance he takes when he’s feeling insecure. Every single time he crosses his arms like that, it makes Shiro feel like he’s putting a wall up and it kind of makes him want to reach out and force his arms down by his sides again. Before he can even entertain that thought for long however, Keith sighs and drops his arms down in defeat, giving Lance one last quizzical look, which he then flicks over to Shiro, who simply shrugs sheepishly.

“Fine, but since you’re both here do you guys actually want anything or are you just going to loiter around like a couple of weirdos,” he mutters. Before Shiro can accept or decline, Lance is standing up.

“Actually, I have to head back,” Lance claims, as he maneuvers his bag in front of him to dig around in it. “Here's your laptop charger and textbook though,” he says cheerfully, pulling said objects from his bag and extending them out to Keith. However, before Keith can accept them, Lance hesitates and pulls them back toward his chest. _“But,_ I was also hoping you would stop by later?” Lance inquires with furrowed brows, a hopeful grin on his lips. Keith blinks up at him, gaze flicking between his eyes before he nods.

“Yeah, my shift doesn’t end until--”

“Ten, yeah I know,” Lance says. Keith quirks his brows teasingly at him, to which Lance promptly blushes, realizing what he’d said.

 _“What?_ Like you don’t have my work schedule memorized!” Lance whines. Keith’s smile increases, despite him trying to train his lips into a thin line.

“Yeah, I do, but _your_ schedule doesn’t change weekly,” Keith reminds. Lance narrows his brows and pouts.

“You know, you are _so_ annoying sometimes,” he complains. Keith responds with a flash of his teeth in a quick grin.

“Mhm,” Keith hums as he plucks his belongings from Lance’s hands, smirking. Their eyes lock in a way that has them looking lost in each other and oblivious to the world around them. _In their own little world,_ Shiro’s mind supplies him with the popular phrase.

Shiro only looks away when Lance leans down the inch or two necessary to peck Keith on the lips. He mutters something that Shiro can’t hear, but it does nothing to decrease the smile on Keith’s lips as he watches Lance leave the store. Shiro can tell the exact moment Keith remembers he isn’t alone when he stiffens and the smile falls from his lips. His eyes flick over to land on Shiro, who is grinning at him from behind a fist.

“What?” Keith demands, shoving his belongings into his messenger bag flipping the top flap of his closed with a little too much force. Shiro shakes his head, but his grin stays.

“Nothing. I just didn’t know you could smile for that long.” Though Keith’s expression is carefully deadpan, a determined blush creeps on to his cheeks.

“You don’t get to tease me after shovel-talking my boyfriend,” Keith states bluntly. Shiro hesitates at that, brows shooting up in shock before he too has a light, shameful blush coloring his own cheeks.

Of course, Keith’s grumpy expression doesn’t last long before he’s deflating with an exhale.

“Do you… want that matcha latte you usually get?” Keith asks in a muttered, grumpy voice. Shiro looks over at him to see him cross-armed and looking down at the floor as he shuffles on his feet. “With almond milk,” he adds quietly, because of course he remembers how Shiro likes his drinks. Plus, they’re both lactose intolerant, thanks for that, dad.

Shiro, unsure how to continue, simply nods and so Keith turns on his heel and disappears behind the work counter. When he comes back, he sits down across from Shiro, sliding over the man’s warm latte in a to-go cup.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Shiro asks. Keith shrugs.

“I technically have about ten more minutes before my shift,” he explains, eyes focused on his hands which are fidgeting on the table.

There’s a prolonged moment of silence between them, all the while Keith looks like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. Eventually, he sighs and looks out the window. It’s beginning to rain, Shiro notices. The world beyond the café is colored in blues and greys from overcast as little specks of rain stick to the cafe window and glide down once they become too large.

“I really like Lance,” Keith confesses, his brows knitted tight as he stares out the window. “Like, a lot. Like, I kind of want to throw up sometimes because of it, is that normal?” Keith admits a little frantically though the last part seems more directed at himself. Shiro sighs.

“I know,” he says, looking down at the steam seeping from the lid of his latte.

“I want you to like him too,” Keith adds, his eyes remaining firm on Shiro’s.

“I _do_ like him,” Shiro insists. Keith rolls his eyes.

“Well, then I want you to like _us_. Like, together, as an item, I guess,” Keith rephrases, his voice trailing off into a mutter, slouching down into his side of the booth. “Maybe that’s kind of dumb but,” Keith’s eyes land on his again, only this time they’re like an open gateway into his mind; they look vulnerable, troubled, conflicted, _trusting._ “But, you’re my brother, Shiro, and I love you. So, I really want you to support this other, important thing in my life,” he admits from his slouched position in the booth.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro finds himself saying. “It’s not much of an excuse, but I guess I was just worried. I know you’re smart and capable and I shouldn’t have gone behind your back to shovel-talk your boyfriend. That was pretty lame,” Shiro admits.

“Yeah, it was,” Keith supplies, monotone. Shiro huffs a laugh, a small smile taking to his lips. “I think your biggest problem here is that you keep seeing me as your _little_ brother instead of just your younger brother. I'm not nine years old anymore.” Keith snorts, almost humorously, but… it occurs to Shiro that Keith is entirely right. “You’ve always been like this. You’d freak out about some things more than mom ever did. Like, when I played as a stupid daisy in that one chorus concert in fifth grade and you actually cried about it,” Keith complains, but Shiro knows deep down that it’s halfhearted.

“Shut up, you were the grumpiest little daisy up there and it was adorable,” Shiro justifies. Keith rolls his eyes and groans. Shiro thinks back to the fond memory of ten-year-old Keith scowling with yellow face paint on and a mane of crafted foam daisy petals framing his face. They have it recorded on a camera, carefully hidden someplace where Keith will never find it.

“God, I’m _so_ glad Lance isn’t here,” Keith complains into his palms.

Silence follows that note. It isn’t awkward, more anticipatory than anything. Across from him, Shiro notices the way Keith’s mouth keeps opening and closing, testing his next words out before he finally speaks.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing, Shiro,” Keith admits with a slight wobble in his voice that makes Shiro frown. “And, for so long, with this kind of thing, that probably would have scared me and I would have gone running the opposite direction, but,” Keith exhales, looking absolutely whipped.

“He makes you happy?” Shiro more states than asks. Keith swiftly turns his head to look at him, nodding with a hushed, “Yes”. Shiro smiles back to Keith, whose brows are scrunched together while his eyes are wide and expectant. “Good,” Shiro decides, simply.

If Shiro did have any lingering concerns, they disappear the moment Keith’s face lights up in one of his rare, unrestrained smiles.

 

#

 

It’s about half past ten when Keith knocks at Lance’s apartment, the door swinging open before Keith can even get to the third knock and he’s being tugged forward into a warm and firm embrace. He hears a short string of words he can’t understand, which he’s fairly certain are profanities at this point.

“I thought I was going to _die,_ Keith, I was _not_ ready for the shovel-talk. I’m _still_ not ready for it and it already happened, _”_ is the first English phrase to leave Lance’s mouth as he squeezes Keith in his arms, tight enough for it to somewhat hurt, but Keith doesn’t mind, only wrenches his arms up between his and Lance’s chests to push away so his face angled up at Lance instead of being shoved uncomfortably into the other man’s armpit.

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Keith manages between Lance’s ranting. Lance laughs mockingly and quirks a brow at him.

“Hello, Keith have you _seen_ your brother? His forearm is the width of my _neck,”_ Lance incredulously reminds. “He could break me like a toothpick, or _worse_ , tell me he’s disappointed in me, or something.” Keith laughs hard enough at that to snort, which makes Lance’s face contort between conflicted adoration and being appalled that Keith finds his suffering humorous.  

“You could have texted me,” Keith informs.

“And lose all of Shiro’s respect because I had to have you rescue me from a horribly awkward and terrifying conversation?” Lance humors before adding, “No.”

“I think my respect matters a little more than Shiro’s since I’m the one who's been sleeping with you the past two months,” Keith reminds.

“Only a little,” Lance says in fake seriousness. Keith responds by rolling his eyes. “But,” Lance continues on a more serious note, grabbing Keith’s wrists to tug him the rest of the way into his apartment so that they aren’t lingering halfway in the very public hall. Keith kicks the door shut with his foot. “Shiro’s your brother and I know you two are really close so I wanted him to, like, approve of my status with you. Plus,” Lance shrugs, fingers tangling into Keith’s to swing their hands between them, “I know it’s important to you that I get along with your brother, especially now. So, I was hoping to make a good impression and all that junk,” Lance concedes, lowering his head bashfully. Keith frowns, tilting his head forward to look up at Lance, fidgeting their intertwined fingers together.

“Thank you, Lance,” Keith says, sincerely, his dark eyes boring up into Lance’s light blue ones. “It actually does mean a lot to me, and even if things didn’t go well, I’d still appreciate it and Shiro would have to deal with it,” Keith reassures. Lance smiles. Their foreheads are pressed together now. Keith hadn’t even noticed they were slowly shifting closer. Lance raises a hand to thumb away some hair covering Keith’s eyes.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” Lance states, fondly. Keith breathes a laugh through his nose.

“They’re just black. Yours are actually pretty,” Keith denies.

“No, sometimes they’re every color in the room,” Lance corrects, progressively shifting impossibly closer so that Keith can feel his breath ghosting along his lips. “Or the sunset, the sky, beach,” he whispers, his lips just inches away. “And then sometimes they’re just dark and still so beautiful,” Lance insists before Keith is closing the gap between them, pressing his lips to Lance’s.

The kiss is just short of chaste, Keith’s hands raising to loop behind Lance’s shoulder and the other on his hip as Lance’s loop around his waist. Keith is just tilting his head to more comfortably deepen the kiss when Lance is abruptly tearing away, their lips separating with an obnoxious suction sound and leaving Keith dazed at the sudden loss of contact.

“Wait, so does that mean I _did_ leave a good impression?” Lance asks excitedly. Keith stares at him, blinking in confusion before narrowing his brows incredulously.

“You were _not_ thinking about that while I had my tongue in your mouth,” Keith all but wails in disbelief, removing himself from Lance’s hold.

“Keith-- wait, _baby_ , this is important!” Lance insists, following on Keith’s heels. Keith continues to pretend to ignore him as he strolls through the kitchenette to rummage through Lance’s fridge. Lance only interrupts his pleading for forgiveness when Keith pulls out a leftover slice of pizza and immediately starts eating it to say, _“are you seriously not going to fucking heat that up, you goddamn baby man”_ leading Keith to laugh and almost choke on said pizza, which results in Lance frantically patting Keith’s back.

Eventually, they find themselves sprawled on Lance’s couch, watching some movie Lance has been insisting _all week_ that he needs to watch. But as he half-lies across Lance’s chest, his body tucked between Lance’s body and the couch, head propped on the other man’s shoulder, his mind is too busy focusing on other things. Particularly, he can’t stop thinking about how he feels right now. It’s not a bad feeling, more like he’s just really happy, and there are no strings attached and it’s a wonderful, brilliant and _absolutely overwhelming_ feeling, especially now that any tension’s on Shiro’s behalf have been nursed—even if he wishes it wasn’t accomplished through a dastardly, underhanded shovel talk.

There’s a sudden buzz beneath Keith, startling him before he realizes it’s Lance’s phone. Lance shifts to reach for it, and Keith slips it from his pocket for him and offers it, not bothering to look at the notification. Lance accepts it and examines it, the blue, luminescent glow lighting up his face. Keith doesn’t actually wonder what the text might be until he feels Lance tense under him. His eyes flick up over to Lance, whose brows are furrowed only for them to lift a second later. Keith can hear muffled audio— a familiar tune. Keith’s brows draw together in confusion, and then suddenly it hits him like a cement wall of dread.

 _“Lance,”_ Keith calls cautiously.  Lance’s eyes trail over to meet Keith’s face. “What is that?” Keith asks ominously, though he knows damn well exactly what it is.

“Nothing,” Lance nervously and immediately claims, defensively pulling his phone closer to his chest.

“Lance, give me the phone,” Keith demands succinctly, lifting himself up to pounce if he needs to.

Lance shakes his head, “I’m keeping it forever,” he threatens.

“Lance, give it to me _, give it to me--”_ Keith lunges, trying to grasp the phone from Lance's hands but Lance jerks away.

Somehow, they end up both falling from the couch, wrestling on the floor until, by some ungodly miracle, Lance actually manages to trap Keith beneath him, using all his body weight of course. Keith squirms under him, his stomach down against the floor, arms trapped by his side, watching on with dread as Lance continues to play the video and Keith _hates_ that they’re at such an angle that he can witness it play before his eyes.

He looks on in doom, trapped, as Lance continues to play the video on his phone, the quality fuzzy and the sound muffled, but it’s clear enough to make out the lyrics to _Mr. Sun_ and the image of Keith, clad in brown cargo shorts and a green long sleeve shirt and tights, donning foam daisy petals around his head with yellow face paint on and the grumpiest expression as he halfheartedly sways from side to side. All the other students surrounding him wore big grins as they cheerfully swayed, but Keith looked absolutely murderous in his little crown of flower petals.

 _“Lance, stop, please,”_ he begs from beneath his boyfriend.

“Keith, I can’t. You were _so_ cute and _angry,_ why were you so angry? God, you’re the most adorable, grumpiest little daisy--” his voice cracks.

“Are you _actually_ crying? Lance, I _swear to god, ugh,”_ Keith groans, shoving his face into the carpet and staying like that, hoping he might suffocate.

The minute-long video feels like hours, and before Lance sets Keith free, he changes his phone’s passcode so Keith can’t delete the video while Lance isn’t guarding it. Keith mourns it, but at least gets Lance to _swear_ he won’t show anyone else, to which he agrees, of course because Lance never wants to be on the receiving end of Keith’s silent-treatment and also because he might kind of be falling in love and doesn’t want to do anything that would upset him regardless.

Keith truly never thought he’d mourn his brother and his boyfriend getting along until this exact moment.

Oh yeah, Lance and Shiro are absolutely going to get along. Keith hates it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all found this as enjoyable to read and I did to write!!  
> If so, every kudos and comment fuels my desire to keep writing this fluffy trash, ~~even tho i'd write it regardless ngl~~  
>  Plus, I honestly just love reading everyone's reactions to the stuff I write lol 
> 
> Anne's Cafe is a direct reference to a cafe from a super cute and gay webcomic called Check Please btw! Not same universe I just couldn't think of a cafe name. 
> 
> Again, I have bestowed upon Keith all the angst and social ineptness. I'm sorry I'm like this. But! Shiro gets a little angst too this time!!? If you squint?! 
> 
>  
> 
> If you like my writing and want to shoot me some asks, headcannons, cute prompts or literally anything via my  
> [ writing tumblr at litaluna](https://litaluna.tumblr.com),  
> feel free  
> 


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